Three Blind Mice
by NSeventySix
Summary: "Never, Lucy," he said quietly, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. "Never. I promise." And Schroeder never broke a promise.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Peanuts! It belongs to the wonderful Mr Schultz!

Hey, all! I'm kinda new to writing Peanuts fanfic... Please, please, please review!

A few heads-up:

This will have more of a modern setting, and the characters have aged a bit (and will continue to do so as the story goes on). This will be primarily Lucy/Schroeder, but I would be happy to take suggestions on a few minor pairings!

Thanks, and enjoy!

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><p><em>Prologue<em>

There was a gentle breeze blowing as they lay under the stars.

It was quiet, but peacefully so, and the leaves and grass shifting created a soothing melody not even Schroeder's able fingers on piano keys could replicate. This sweet song was a welcome respite from Beethoven, even he had to admit.

He glanced over at the dark-haired girl beside him. Lucy was gazing at the sky almost dreamily, her large eyes occasionally drifting closed. She turned her head slightly as their eyes met for a brief minute, and Lucy gave him a small smile. This time, he didn't hesitate to return it. Lucy was still loud and bossy, but also faithful and kind; as they grew older, Schroeder found that her presence, her quick remarks – her _love,_ even—was as much a part of him as his beloved piano. And although he hated to admit it, he had become rather fond of his best friend.

Tonight, though, she was still, and the two were enjoying the first warm night of the year. At her suggestion—no, her relentless _nagging_—Schroeder reluctantly pulled himself away from his music to go stargazing. His initial grumbles finally subsiding, he let the tension leave his shoulders in relief as he lay on the fresh grass. Nothing beats a few hours of Beethoven, he thought, grinning… but this wasn't so bad.

Schroder snuck another peek at Lucy. At thirteen, even he had to admit that she looked pretty—no, _decent_, he reminded himself rather forcefully—although he'd never say it to her face. He would never hear the end of it. Her black curls fanned out from under her head, as dark as her classic, wide Van Pelt eyes. Under those was her sweet but slightly upturned nose, giving an almost offensive look to her otherwise delicate features. Lucy's mouth, which he still thought was too big for her own good, was currently closed, pink lips turned in a slight smile. Overall, she painted an appealing picture, lying there in the grass—he stopped that thought rather quickly. Sure, she turned out okay, he allowed that, but he definitely did not find her _attractive_. Good grief!

His blue orbs snapped back to the heavens quickly. He shifted to the side rather uncomfortably –why was it so damn _hot_ all of a sudden?—but he froze when he heard a muffled sniff.

"Lucy?" Schroeder ventured cautiously, shifting his head. "Lucy, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," came her forceful, guarded answer, but he knew her well enough to find the slight tremor in her voice. "Lu, are you _crying_?" he asked, appalled, now facing her fully. Now, he could see the shine in her eyes, and the small twist in her mouth. Poor Schroeder felt a little flutter of panic in his chest. How do you deal with a crying girl? Not just any girl, but Lucy, his best friend, who could pack a punch harder than any boy he knew, who he was sure even as a baby had never shed a tear (although screaming was an entirely different matter).

"No," Lucy replied with dignity, "I am not _crying_, Schroeder. I just got a blade of grass in my eye." Her nose was lifting up again in the classic Lucy style, but this haughty air contrasted greatly with the depressed look in her eyes. Schroeder took her hand hesitantly, trying to comfort her but also afraid of a slow and painful death by her hands if she exploded. He squeezed softly as he looked at her encouragingly.

Lucy sighed in defeat. Schroeder was almost triumphant—_I've still got it_.

"I miss my dad, Schroeder," she whispered plaintively, squeezing her eyelids shut. She hiccupped quietly as her lip trembled. Her friend winced; Mr. Van Pelt was killed in a car accident about a year ago. Lucy had always been the closest of her siblings to her father; she had been hit the hardest after his death. Schroeder had known better than to bring it up and this was the first time she mentioned it. Perhaps to anyone, he mused.

Lucy wasn't finished. At his gentle push, she admitted, trembling, "I miss him Schroeder… he understood me, protected me… I wanted to be just like him." She paused, as a lone tear fell from her eye. "Schroeder… sometimes I feel like he left me alone."

Schroeder could only stare. His heart went out to her—he could feel his heart thumping rather painfully, he hated to see her cry—but he stuttered. "Lu, I—I'm sorry," he fumbled, miserable. But his ashamed eyes caught her tear-filled ones, and he took courage. "He didn't leave you alone," he stated resolutely, earnestly. "You have your brothers, and your mother. You have Violet, and Patty, and even old Charlie Brown!" At this, he was pleased to see her crack a small smile.

"And you?" she ventured hopefully, peeking at him.

"Of course," he assured her, his heart suspiciously thumping again. She rested her head against the ground again, content as she rubbed away any traces of tears. Schroeder was less sure, still watching her protectively as he grasped her hand. Caring for her was now second nature to him; it was rare, however, that the situation called for him to shelter her. Usually Lucy could beat her problems on her own.

But he knew Lucy was okay when she said quietly, "You know, Schroeder, my dad loved the outdoors… that's why I think of him when I see the stars. Did you know, he taught me the constellations?" No, he did not know, so Lucy proceeded to teach him her favorites.

"That one's Ursa Major," she pointed, "Also known as the Great Bear."

Schroeder wanted to see her smile again, so he squinted. "I don't see a bear," he huffed, "all I see are a bunch of dots."

"Right _there_, blockhead!" she giggled, pointing harder at the sky. Truthfully, he still saw no celestial bear and proceeded to let her know rather haughtily. Lucy rolled her eyes, laughing again. "You're hopeless, Schroeder. Simply hopeless."

His response was a handful of grass dumped rather unceremoniously on her face. She shrieked, and so ignited a rather fierce battle that disrupted the peace with yells and laughter.

The next hour found them rather sleepy on the field, the grass fight over with Lucy as the clear winner. Schroeder was feeling ridiculously happy despite his defeat, because her hand had somehow found its way into his again. He sighed, more content than ever. He could easily fall asleep like this.

It seemed Lucy had the same idea, for when he glanced at her again her eyes were shut again and her breathing even. He had no idea how he was supposed to wake her up without receiving a punch in the face (he had learned this lesson the hard way a while ago) but decided to leave that problem for later.

It turned out, however, he wouldn't have to worry. The silence of the night was interrupted by her sleepy voice.

"Schroeder…" she murmured, slightly slurred. He sincerely doubted she was even awake. "Schroeder, will you tell me something?"

"Sure, Lu," he responded curiously, playing along.

"Schroeder, will you ever leave me like my dad?"

He stiffened. Shocked, he wondered if she was waiting for a response, whether it really mattered what his answer was because she wouldn't remember it anyway. But then he looked at her face and couldn't lie.

"Never, Lucy," he said quietly, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. "Never. I promise."

She sighed; her lips lifted at the ends, and fell truly in a deep sleep. Schroeder relaxed too, his eyes drifting closed. The weight of his vow was on his chest, but he didn't regret it; he would never again hurt Lucy. Not anymore.

As sleep took him, Schroeder's last thought was that he never broke a promise.

Never.

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><p>Tell me what you think!<p> 


	2. Chapter 1

Thank you all so much for the reviews! I will definitely take all your advice to heart :)

The characters, just as a heads-up, are now ranging from 17-18 years old (with the exception of Rerun.) Enjoy, and please review!

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><p><em>5 years later<em>

Schroeder hated the cinema.

Maybe that wasn't exactly true, he mused as he slumped unhappily in the cushioned seat. He had liked them at some point early in his life, and he even enjoyed the cinema when he was watching something interesting, like an action or even horror movie—but that was never the case when he went with Lucy.

For the past year or so, Lucy and Schroeder had established a routine of going to the movies every Sunday night, without fail, rain or shine. Secretly, Schroeder treasured these hours alone with his best friend, even though he knew her idiot boyfriend Rick resented it (In fact, Schroeder could have cared less; he had even grinned a little when Lucy had told him about Rick's frustration.)

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy Lucy's company or Rick's anger or even the crick in his neck he got from watching the large screen; no, it was Lucy's damn _movie taste_. With a terrible weakness for sappy love stories, Lucy somehow _always_ roped him into watching _romantic comedies_. And Schroeder, a miserable guy hopelessly in love with his best friend, somehow _always_ went along with what she wanted.

He would argue, of course. "Lu, that movie's terrible. The acting sucks and I could probably tell you the ending without even watching the _preview_."

So she would beg, "But, Schroeder, Vi told me it was funny and cute! Plus, the theme is an amazing piano melody that when I heard it _I knew _you'd love it. Please please please?"

So every week he would finally agree to whatever romantic filth she wanted to see because he loved her, darn it, and he was afraid she would call off the date if he said no. He would pick her up around seven on Sunday night, and he would buy the tickets and Lucy would pay for the popcorn (small, no butter, extra salt). They would walk into the theater, and sit in the same seats (last row, directly in the middle) and she would get Schroeder to loosen up a little, talking and laughing or trying to catch the popcorn in her mouth ("large target," he would joke) until the stupid movie started.

Then the torture began. At first, he would try for her sake to watch the film. But to Schroeder, the lovey-dovey crap and happy endings seemed to mock the fact that he could never have _her_. It was funny, that after years of Lucy's unrequited love he would finally feel the same for her just as she started to move on… and every time he saw her holding hands with Rick, caught them kissing in the halls or watched one of these _movies_, Schroeder would feel a deep pain in his chest.

So after a while, every Sunday, sitting in the run-down theater, in the middle seats in the last row, instead of watching the movie Schroeder would watch Lucy.

He had perfected the art of doing it out of the corner of his eye, completely engrossed in staring at the beautiful girl next to him. When she laughed at what was supposed to be funny he would smile too, and whenever the touching part would start and she would begin to sniffle like every other teenage girl in the place he would take her hand. It was so routine Lucy never commented on it; it felt completely natural to hold her small hand in his large one.

Of course, Schroeder was fairly certain Lucy had no idea how he felt, or how he entertained himself at the movies. In fact, once she had even decided to talk to him about a movie afterwards. "Oh, Schroeder," she had sighed in the car, "that movie was amazing. Did you like it? What was your favorite part?"

He realized she had asked him a question when he caught her expectant look. "Uh… I liked the part when, um… the dude and the girl got…reunited?" It was a scene that was a constant in every romantic comedy he had ever been forced to watch.

He was afraid Lucy was kind of suspicious that he hadn't paid attention (he really hadn't) but he relaxed when she squealed, "Me too!"

Tonight, however, was different. Lucy had called on a Friday, which was strange; she had made it quite clear that those days were reserved for date night with her boyfriend. She had sounded quiet on the phone, almost urgent, and although it was last minute Schroeder had agreed to go. When he picked her up Lucy was more reserved than usual, smiling half-heartedly at his terrible jokes. It was only until they were driving up to the theater had she cracked a real grin, and they were in line for tickets when she finally laughed. In his seat, Schroeder straightened in realization. Had Lucy and Rick broken up? Now that he thought of it, Schroeder hadn't seen that idiot in _days_. He bit his lip, his emotions ranging from pain for his friend to utter glee. He would ask about it later, he decided; what are best friends for, anyways?

He settled back down, his fingers tightening a little around Lucy's warm hand. He allowed himself a smile; maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.


	3. Chapter 2

And so the plot finally thickens…

It was actually pretty hard for me to write this one… I'm not sure if the feeling in my chest right now is nervousness or heartburn… ah well! This chapter is going to be a little longer, and we finally get to see a few more characters in this one. :)

Please tell me what you think… before I get a heart attack…

Disclaimer: And by the way, I don't own any of the characters you recognize… just Rick. And that sucks, because I hate him.

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><p>Strong fingers pounded away at the shining grand piano in the living room, belting loose Beethoven's Ninth Symphony with feeling.<p>

Schroeder loved the way his fingertips felt over the glossy keys, how the notes seemed to hum in his chest and change his heartbeat. He especially loved that he didn't need to think. Only _feel_.

As his fingers finally signaled the finish, he finally looked up only to notice the absence of a certain someone leaning on the piano. Of course, she hadn't had been there to begin with, but recently Schroeder loved to end a piece only to discover Lucy had come in quietly while he had been absorbed in the music. She would grin and applaud appropriately, sometimes with a few teasing comments on the side (_Schroeder, that was lovely!_ or, _Wow,_ _talented _and_ cute!)._ But today, Schroeder was alone. He slumped, sulking.

But he brightened a little when he remembered where he would be in a few weeks. New York City! Schroeder had been accepted into Julliard with a rather large scholarship, and the summer's end would take him to the largest city in the world to study with the best piano players that lived (well, currently, anyway). He was already mostly packed; to his dismay, he couldn't bring his lovely piano, since the apartment he was renting was too tiny. His parents had paid a little extra—well, maybe not just a little—for him to be able to have his own place and commute to the school. He had been thankful. Schroeder enjoyed the solitude.

Well… that wasn't all true. He would miss Lucy. At the top of her class (under only a few genius students like Marcie), a natural leader, and with a ton of community and extracurricular activities under her belt, she was going to study Psychology on a full scholarship not too far from home. "I'll visit," she had promised earnestly, dark eyes meeting icy blue ones, "At least a few times a year. I swear!" He had assured her too that he would come home for the holidays, every one of them, and would come see her. But Schroeder knew it wasn't the same.

No, he had to _stop_. Time was flying fast, and soon he would be gone. He only had less than a month left with the girl he loved...

As his fingers began to play Mozart's Sonata in C-major—he was making a sincere effort for variation—he heard his front door slam open. There was no question who it was; Schroeder's mother had even given her a key a few years back. Pleased, he played a little louder as if to welcome her home, invite her to lean across from him, staring at him with those _eyes_…

But something was horribly wrong. She burst in, breathing heavily and with red-rimmed eyes. In shock, Schroeder's fingers stopped mid-note as he jumped up worriedly. "Lucy? Lucy! What's wrong?"

She dove into his arms, crying into his chest. He was taken aback, and yes, he admitted it, warm all over at her unexpected embrace. "Lucy?" he asked gently, urgently. "Lu, what's going on?" He glanced at his half-packed bags across the room. "Is this about me going away? Look, I'm sorry—"

"No!" she burst out, only clutching him closer. His worry increased as he tried to get a good look at her.

"Then tell me," he said quietly, soothingly, as he made her sit down on the couch. He knelt before her, looking up into her face in concern.

She breathed deeply, her breath hitching. "Schroeder…" she whimpered, "M-my mother kicked me out."

Silence. "What?" he exclaimed in disbelief, in horror. "_Why_?" He knew her mother could be irrational at times, angry, judgmental (quite unlike the late Mr. Van Pelt) but she would never kick out her prized daughter among less-than-normal sons.

"_Why_, Lucy?" he asked again, more urgently, panicky. "Are you sure? What happened?"

She gulped a breath. "Rick…Rick, he—"

Schroeder froze. He felt a bit of dread in the pit of his stomach… mixed with fury. "Lu… where is he?" He had meant to ask before, really, but he knew now that he had forgotten… was that was this was all about?

She shook her head, more tears falling down her cheeks. He felt his stomach plunge.

"Lucy?" Schroeder whispered, horrified. She finally looked up to face him, tear-streaked cheeks burning with shame.

"Schroeder… I'm pregnant."

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><p>"<em>Lucy!" Linus's voice rang from downstairs. "Your boyfriend's here!"<em>

_Lucy glanced at her reflection, grinning. She had to admit, she didn't look too bad; her dark hair had been curled for the occasion, hanging down her back in perfect ringlets. She had learned a while ago when a lot of makeup was too much, and had achieved utter makeup flawlessness tonight. Vi had helped her choose her dress, a dark blue one not unlike the one she had preferred as a child; and now, as she stared back at her own face through the mirror, she couldn't help feeling extreme satisfaction. She blushed; vanity had always been a weakness of hers._

"_Coming!" she shouted in reply, grabbing her purse and her soft blue jacket, just in case the night got chilly. She stampeded down the stairs, quite un-lady-like, and stopped in the kitchen. She glanced at Linus, who was currently reading some fat book. "Where's Rerun?" she asked, frowning._

"_I think he's out with some friends," Linus answered absently, not looking up from his novel. "I'll call when he gets home. Mom says she'll be at work until late, too. Hey, listen, take care, alright?"_

_Lucy rolled her eyes. "Yes, mother," she replied sarcastically, ruffling his hair with her free hand. "See ya, blockhead."_

_Linus grunted._

_She rushed out the door, making sure to keep it unlocked for Rerun; it was getting dark, and he couldn't be out too much longer. She hurried to the waiting truck parked on the darkening street, and jumped in happily (it was quite a feat in heels)._

"_Rick!" she exclaimed, smiling as she leaned in for a kiss. Her boyfriend grinned in response. With waves of light brown hair, smoldering black eyes, and a mouth curled in a smirk, Lucy knew he was certainly a catch. A football player on the varsity team, he had a large and well-built, not to mention muscles the girls at school drooled over. Strong. He was the only guy Lucy had ever met who was stronger than she was._

_He kissed her suddenly, hard. Lucy responded in kind—it felt nice—but she was a little taken aback and his forwardness. She could taste… or smell… something strange in his mouth. But she couldn't place the flavor. She put it aside as she drew away hesitantly._

"_Where are we going?" she asked, brightly. She buckled in, for some reason trying to heed Linus's request to be careful. No, she was being silly._

_Rick smiled. "You'll see, Lucy." He turned the key in the ignition, and they drove into the night. _

"_Rick," Lucy whined, "come on, sweetie. Where are we?" They had turned a couple of strange streets, and were in a part of town Lucy hadn't been too much. She glanced out the window, fretting. It was truly dark out, and she couldn't place the street they were on. The movies, the mall, and most of the restaurants they liked were in the opposite direction._

"_Oh, just shut up, Lucy," Rick snapped in annoyance. Lucy huffed, slumping in her seat. What kind of a date was this? He had told her it would be special, to dress up and look nice. She had assumed it would be a fancy restaurant, and maybe some dancing afterwards... oh, she hated surprises._

_Finally, the car stopped. Relieved, Lucy looked out the darkened window in anticipation—_

_—and __her heart froze._

_It was a motel._

"_R-Rick," Lucy struggled to find her voice. It came out as a squeak. "Honey, is this what I think it is?" Her mouth had gone dry, and her fingertips of all places had begun to sweat. Oh no, oh no…_

"_Sure, Lucy," he drawled, leaning closer. "I told you it would be a great time… and I think we've been ready a while now, don't you think?"_

"_No, no, Rick! I _told_ you I didn't want to a while ago! I thought this subject was over!" Lucy was angry, but afraid. She forced herself not to shake. It had begun to dawn on her what that smell was…_

"_Rick," she spoke calmly, quietly, despite the shiver up her spine. "Have you been drinking?"_

_He stretched in his seat, looking at Lucy with half-lidded eyes. "Come on, Lucy," he said, "you love me, don't you?"_

"_Of course I—"_

"_Then do it," he whispered dangerously, now so close to her that she couldn't control her shivers. "If you love me."_

_Lucy glanced again out the window, at the shabby motel and the flickering, cold white streetlights in the parking lot. She hesitated only a moment._

"_Take me _home_!" she yelled suddenly, finding courage as she slammed her foot on the floor in emphasis. "Now, Rick! I said I didn't want to go there, so drive me home!"_

_But when she caught the terrible look on his face, she felt her heart quake in panic. She struggled to get the car door open—no luck, locked—_

_And when she couldn't get her shaking fingers to undo her seat belt, he launched himself at her—and she screamed._

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><p>"He eventually took me home," Lucy's voice cracked, "but I didn't tell anyone… I couldn't, I was too afraid, too ashamed, you know? And when I hadn't seen him for days I thought the problem had just gone away, it was okay because I would never see him again… but then a few days ago, I started to get sick…"<p>

Schroeder couldn't hear anymore. His heart was beating furiously in his ears; red tinged his vision as his hands shook with fury. "I'll kill him," he interrupted, low and dangerous. "_I'm going to kill him_."

"No!" Lucy grabbed his shoulder forcibly, turning him to look at her. There were fresh tears in her eyes as she begged. "Please, Schroeder, don't go looking for him! You'll get hurt, or worse!"

Looking into her eyes, veiled with tears and despair, Schroeder reluctantly agreed. He forced his anger under control for Lucy… Lucy first, revenge later…

"And—and your mother kicked you out?" he asked tentatively, keeping himself in check. He couldn't believe it. "Even after you explained?"

She wiped her eyes before answering. "I actually told Linus first," she confessed, sniffling a little. "He reacted a little like you did, which was surprising. I thought he was a pacifist… but he was the one who convinced me to tell her. He promised he would stand next to me the whole time…" Here she choked up, wracked with fresh sobs. "B-but she didn't listen! She c-called me horrible things… she wouldn't l-let me explain! She told me she wouldn't have a w-whore living in her house…"

She buried her face in his shoulder again. He tightened his arms around her, feeling her despair in his own chest. Oh, Lucy…

"What will I do, Schroeder?" he could feel her whisper soft against his neck. "I don't know where to go… I can only live at Violet's for so long…"

"I feel so alone."

Suddenly Schroeder was jerked back to another time, past years and experiences and feelings, and was pulled into a hazy memory five years ago. The night he and Lucy fell asleep under the stars. He could almost smell the freshly mown grass and the silky glow of moonlight on his forehead. He saw Lucy's thirteen-year-old face, peaceful, young. He heard his promise that he would take care of her forever.

With this stunning realization and a plan suddenly laid out before him in shining brilliance, Schroeder was pulled back to the present and to the shaking girl in his arms. He felt warmth and excitement for a brief second, and was he _blushing_? He knew she would take some convincing, but if all went well—

"Lucy," he said gently, shaking her a little. She turned upward to face him, a little confused at his change in demeanor. Her red-rimmed eyes widened slightly; he was _smiling_. Her heart thumped. _Like an angel_.

"Lucy, come to New York with me."

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><p>Review please! And thanks so much to <strong>Marisa Lee<strong>, **supersexyghotmew95**, **when the stars go out** and **screak **for your reviews! You guys are awesome, and I will definitely take your advice :)


	4. Chapter 3

Hey everyone! Sorry I haven't updated in a while... but I had the chance this week! HOORAY FOR SPRING BREAK!

May is going to be a bit hectic for me and therefore for updates, but once we hit summer, things will be a _lot_ smoother.

As always, thank you to my lovely and kind reviewers :) And I don't own Peanuts!

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><p>"Are you <em>crazy<em>?"

Schroeder didn't even flinch. He only smiled down at her, his excitement undampered. "Of course not," he replied calmly, sincerely. Her mouth dropped open in shock. He was _serious_?

Lucy pushed away from him, her hands roughly gripping his shoulders. She stared at him in disbelief. "Schroeder, that's _insane_. I mean, I appreciate it and all, but—"

He interrupted, now slightly annoyed. "But what, Lucy? Where do you think you're going to go? Back home? On the _streets_? Your mother won't let you back, and you can't stay at Violet's forever." He snorted, before once again breaking into a half smile. "Lu, think about it. I've got an apartment with extra room, and you can be independent from your mom! My parents won't mind, you know they absolutely adore you. Lucy, you can even transfer to a school in New York! You could still study! I mean, come on, which wouldn't take _you_?" He was getting excited now, cheeks flushing and voice rising in pitch. "And I can help you out, Lu, I promise. And New York is such an amazing city; it's so big and busy! You'd love it there, and we could be together all the time! We won't have to wait until vacations to see each other, and—"

Lucy straightened, biting her lip. She had to admit, it sounded like a perfect dream. To live in the city, with _him_… "Okay, let me think," she begged, trying to stay level-headed. Her head was still aching from the recent events, and now Schroeder's idea had hit her like a bombshell. As doubt entered her mind, she sighed, trying to think of how to express it.

"Schroeder," Lucy said gently, hesitantly, her eyes somber as they met his. Schroeder stared back quietly, now somber. "Schroeder, you need to realize that in a while, you'd have to take care of me. I'll be too much trouble. And then there's the baby…" She shook her head, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I can't ask for so much."

But her eyes darted back to his face when he heard a laugh. Schroeder was gazing down at her with a mixture of amusement, affection, and exasperation; in fact, it only served to aggravate her further. Her eyes flashed fire. "I mean it! Schroeder, it's too much responsibility!"

"No, Lucy, _I_ mean it." Schroeder was earnest now, his hand coming up slowly to brush a curl from her forehead almost tenderly. "When I offered, I knew exactly what the job entails. Besides… what are best friends for?"

There was silence as she deliberated, her defenses lowered. Reluctantly, Lucy sighed again, this time in defeat. "Okay," she breathed, "if you're sure…"

He brightened, sensing victory.

"…I'll take you up on that offer."

Schroeder let loose a great peal of laughter, eyes shining like the sun. He stood up, pulling Lucy with him as he hugged her. She could only gaze at him in wonder, at this rare display of emotion from her usually sarcastic and serious best friend. Finally she pushed him away playfully, his humor contagious. "Well, Schroeder," she warned him, "I gotta warn you, I'm not the easiest person to live with."

He stared at her in mock horror. "Oh no," he moaned sarcastically, "I had no idea! What the hell have I _done_?"

She grinned evilly; then her lips softened into a soft smile. "But thanks," she murmured, her eyes glistening with gratitude. His chest warmed.

"Anytime, Lu."

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><p>A few weeks passed the small town in a blur.<p>

Schroeder had started by telling his parents about the change of plans. With Lucy's permission, he had confided in them her story; his mother had been shocked, horrified. _"That poor girl!" _she had cried, her hands reaching towards her heart. "_Oh, of course she can stay with you! Oh, what a hideous thing to happen! Did you call the police? Oh, that _poor_ girl! Are you sure you can handle it, dear?" _His father had been silent, looking at Schroeder solemnly. What he had said next made him almost burst with pride. _"If it had been any other teenage boy telling me this, I would have thought they were crazy… or stupid."_ he paused. _"But… I know you, son. I trust your judgement… it's never failed us before."_

Lucy had transferred to Columbia University, which had gladly accepted the promising student into their ranks. She had packed her things when her mother was at work, and was currently staying at Violet's house until their departure. When she wasn't at the house, she was over at Schroeder's, sitting on the couch in the living room as he played. As usual, she talked the entire time, but now she only fretted; she would nervously wonder if she was doing the right thing, or whether she had packed her toothbrush, or something ridiculous like that. Honestly, he had stopped paying attention to her ranting a while ago; her doubts couldn't dampen his happiness.

Now the big day was upon them, on an uncharacteristically foggy morning in the summer. Schroeder's father was piling the luggage into the van, where he would be taking the two to the airport. The older man huffed with exertion, stretching his back. What did that girl have in her _bags_?

A small group of teens huddled at the end of the driveway, waiting to see their friends off. Linus, Rerun, Violet and Charlie Brown all surrounded Schroeder and Lucy, with last bits of advice and goodbyes.

"Do you have everything, Lucy?" An anxious Linus peeked in her carry-on, sifting through the various papers carefully. "Are you sure you have your ticket? I would hate for you to forget it—"

"I think Schroeder has it," Lucy replied distractedly, watching Rerun's face; she was afraid he would start to cry. When she caught sight of the first tear, she pulled her youngest brother into a gentle hug. The boy buried his face into her jacket, inhaling her familiar scent shakily; what would he do without Lucy?

"Aw, Rerun, don't cry." Lucy pulled him away slightly, her eyes warm as they met his desperate ones. With uncharacteristic softness, she brushed away the moisture on his cheeks. "We'll see each other for Christmas, right? It's only a few months."

Violet watched this all from a small distance, standing next to Schroeder, of all people. The raven-haired girl was huddled in a purple jacket, looking thoroughly miserable. She sighed, keeping her eyes on the younger girl almost protectively. Suddenly, her mood shifted in a heartbeat, and she abruptly turned to face him with a fierce look in her eye. "Schroeder, I swear, if _anything_ happens to her, I will find you wherever you are lurking, castrate you and _force-feed you_ your genitals in a milkshake. Got it?"

Schroeder was suddenly glad he had never really hung out with Lucy's friend much. "Loud and clear," he replied, his voice cracking a little. After a thought, he added quietly, "You're not the only one that loves her, you know."

Violet deflated. "I know," she admitted softly, "But I can't help but worry for her… she's been through too much, and sometimes I wish I could protect her from _everything_. Although, if I had to choose…" here she cracked a small smile, "I'm glad it's you who's with her right now. She really trusts you."

He thought about that for a minute; he would die for Lucy in an instant, but he marveled at the fact that she would do the same now, even after all the pain and rejection he had put her through as children. He didn't deserve her trust; he was reminded of that every day. "I know," he replied almost ruefully, running a hand through his shaggy blond hair. _And I won't forget it anytime soon_.

"Yes, I'm _sure_ I have my wallet," Lucy groaned, bending over to button Rerun's jacket. It was still chilly, and although Rerun was hardly a child anymore, she could tell he appreciated being babied by her this one last time.

Linus cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Lucy… are you sure about this? Will you be okay?"

She straightened, and turned to look up to her brother's anxious face. He was getting so _tall_…

"Yes, I will, I think." She smiled. "Take care, okay? Watch over Rerun and don't let him do stupid things. Make sure he doesn't end up too much like _you_." She made a disgusted face.

Linus rolled his eyes, grinning. "Heaven forbid, Lucy. See you at Christmas," and he pulled her into a hug. After a minute, Lucy felt a shy tap on the shoulder. Curiously, she turned from Linus to face a rather conflicted-looking Charlie Brown. A grin broke across her face.

"Well, ya old blockhead," she joked, pulling her old friend into an embrace. "I guess this is good-bye for now."

Charlie hugged back rather awkwardly, feeling genuine sadness that she, along with one of his closest friends, was leaving. The neighborhood would never be the same without her boisterous personality. "Have fun in New York, Lucy," he whispered past the lump in his throat. "I'll see you in a few months."

"Feel free to call me up anytime, too, Charlie Brown," Lucy said, more gentle than she had ever been with her childhood friend. Finally pulling away, with one last half-hearted punch to his arm, Lucy finally made her way to Schroeder's side. She gazed up at him expectantly.

"Ready to go?" He asked her, his goodbyes already said. She nodded.

A few minutes later, the van pulled into the street, and slowly passed the four kids standing in the sidewalk. They smiled—Rerun rather bravely—and waved to the two now speeding away down the road. As the car turned the corner and disappeared from view, the fog slowly turned into a steady drizzle. The youngest Van Pelt shivered.

He turned to his older brother. "Linus, I'm going to miss Lucy."

Linus hesitated, but then thought of his older sister; his brave, crabby, stubborn, strong, admirable sister. "Me too," he admitted, "But I think that she's going to be fine."

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><p>Reviews make me smile!<p> 


	5. Chapter 4

Hey everyone! I'm sorry it's been a bit too long since I've updated, but my schedule is literally kicking me in the face right now. lol

I want to thank my AWESOME reviewers! It means so much to me that you guys take the time to do it :) I'm going to answer some at my author's note at the bottom because YOU DESERVE IT!

So to clear it up a little, this chapter is a flashback of sorts, kind of a respite before we get into the action again. It wrote itself, kind of, and I had to put it up!

Disclaimer: Don't own Peanuts… siigghhhh….

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><p><em>~Two Years Earlier~<em>

The way Schroeder found he was hopelessly gone was like this.

It had started on a horrible, muggy, hot, bright, very sweaty and somehow beautiful day. Unforgettable.

He had been sixteen, with blond unkempt hair falling into clear blue eyes. He had finally grown taller than most of his friends, although he was still rather lanky and awkward in his unfamiliar body. Fingers had become strong and rough with years of playing. One thing that remained unchanged, however, was his passion for the instrument that rested serenely on his bedroom floor, shining in the sunlight.

An instrument that, on that strange summer day, was left largely untouched by its disgruntled owner.

An exasperated Charlie Brown and Linus had literally dragged the furious pianist outside for fresh air after days of being cooped inside, probably rotting in his own filth. "Now, look here, Schroeder," Charlie Brown stated in the most commanding voice he could muster, "Staying inside like that, on a day like this, is well, um—"

"—Unhealthy, really," Linus interrupted. "On a hot day like today, you hafta come outside and enjoy it! Instead of staying in the dark like that, fermenting like mold—when was the last time you _bathed_, anyway?"

Charlie Brown wrinkled his nose a little. Not for at least two days, he'd bet.

Schroeder had the dignity to look offended. "I appreciate the offer, _thank_ you, but I was in the middle of composing my greatest work to date! I don't have _time_ for this—" at this Charlie and Linus shared a look—"and bathing is really inconsequential when a masterpiece is being born. So I will just be going home—wait— wait a minute, _what are doing? Let me go!"_ He fought valiantly against the hands dragging him down the street. "No, stop, you fools! _I need to finish it!_ I'll forget it if I don't go write it down! No, please, I'm begging you, let me _go_—"

So kicking and screaming, biting, begging and wailing, Schroeder was taken by force to the Van Pelt home.

Miserably he slumped on the couch in their living room, steaming both in fury and in the oppressive heat. It had been decided—without his approval, mind you—that Linus would lend him a pair of swim trunks to go swimming in the Van Pelts' new in-ground swimming pool. He could see most of the neighborhood kids there already, splashing and crying out in relief from the hellish temperature outside. He watched in grudging interest as Shermy made a double flip into the water and everyone cheered.

A few minutes and biting comments directed at Linus later, Schroeder was outside in the bathing suit. He sat in stoic silence next to the former, ignoring the cool glass of lemonade set down in front of him. Maybe a hunger strike would be enough to get him home.

"Linus! Oh, _Linus_!" A high-pitched squeal came from their left, and both boys turned apprehensively towards its owner. A flash of blond and pink was all that was seen before Sally Brown came crashing into Linus's arms.

The pretty girl bounced and laughed in Linus's lap. He blushed, trying fruitlessly to push her off. "Oh, my sweet Baboo! Don't you look sweet in your bathing suit! Wanna go swimming?"

"Sally, _get off_," Linus tried to be gruff, but was failing miserably. Sally ignored him. "Do you like my new bikini, Linus? It's new, I got it just last week!"

Even Schroeder, in his wretched state, had to admit the pink sparkly thing she was wearing made her look gorgeous. Linus had turned beet red, looking at Schroeder, the pool, the sky, the dirt, anywhere _except_ Sally and her new bikini. He began to stammer a response.

"I—I, um, err… pink... I—"

Sally, finally getting tired of his unintelligible mumble, took command. "We're going swimming," she announced, standing up. She loftily took Linus's arm, yanking him towards the pool. "My sweet Baboo is coming!" she called out the kids, some of them laughing and catcalling. Linus managed a groan. "I am NOT YOUR—" his complaint was cut off by getting shoved into the water.

Schroeder managed a smirk. Karma was a bitch.

He stayed stubbornly in the deck chair for a while, sort of enjoying the shade as he watched Linus suffer. Sweat gathered on his brow. He bit his lip as the pool water sloshed alluringly, and tried not to imagine how delicious it would be to be cold—

He suddenly got his wish.

A freezing splash suddenly hit him, and he jumped and sputtered. He wiped his eyes indignantly as the culprit laughed in front of him. _Lucy_.

He opened his eyes, prepared to give her a piece of his mind—couldn't she see he was sulking? —but he stopped short, eyes wide. He could only stare.

There she was, in her sixteen-year-old beauty, dark blue bathing suit clinging to her slight frame in the damp. She was laughing hysterically, flashing pearly whites and dark glinting eyes. She grinned at him, tugging her wet strands behind her ear. She looked _beautiful_.

"I got you, didn't I?" she teased, hands on hips. He forced himself to answer her as normally as possible.

"Go away," he moaned, shaking his wet hair like a dog. He tried to frown. "Can't you see I'm trying to be depressed in peace?" _Stop looking at her like that… she's your friend. Only your friend…_

She chuckled evilly. "Fine then," she sang out, "I guess I'll go enjoy the pool all by myself. The nice, cold pool…"

He felt his mouth dry. How was it possible that he was sweating again already?

"The refreshing, delicious water…" she was walking towards it, still facing him.

He got up quietly, smirking. She didn't notice.

"Cool… wet…"

She was at the edge. He didn't think.

He ran, and pushed her into the water.

All hell broke loose.

Lucy screamed, not in fear or even anger, but in a fierce battle cry that made Schroeder fear for his miserable life. He tried to run, but her hand shot out of the watery depths and locked on his shorts with an iron grip. The next thing he knew, he was spluttering in the pool as she viciously tried to drown him.

It wasn't then, however, that Schroeder found himself in love. It wasn't even when he saw her in her bathing suit, or when he shook her hand when she grudgingly agreed to a truce before lunch. It didn't even hit him when he found himself staring as she laughed with Violet, hair shining in the sun.

No, the moment when he knew he was a goner happened after lunch, when Linus graciously handed out ice creams. He was sitting next to Lucy as she enjoyed her frozen treat. He had said something to her, he didn't even remember what it was—when she turned to face him, her hair sort of tangled with the scent of chlorine, with ice cream on her smiling lips.

She had never looked so _beautiful_—and it hit him like a brick that he would never be the same again.

Her grin had faltered after a few seconds, confusion slowly clouding her eyes. Her forehead creased as her mouth opened to speak his name.

In a daze, he smiled at her, before gently wiping some of the ice cream off her bemused face. She smiled again self-consciously, and her shy grin made him fall for her even more.

That evening, he walked home sopping wet, alone, but ridiculously happy. He answered his parents' greetings vaguely, as he climbed the stairs to his room. Absentmindedly he made his way to the piano, and sat down to work on the piece before bed.

With mild interest he realized that although he had not forgotten what the song sounded like, it now felt wrong somehow, like it should be _different_. Warmer. Sweeter. Like _her_.

After that afternoon, the tune's melody had changed in his head, and his fingers began to create this feeling he felt for the first time.

That was the first night he played for Lucy.

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><p>AN: Yeah, so I just wanted to respond to some reviewers because they make me happy :)

**aworldwellneverfind**: Thank you sooo much! Your review really made me so happy, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry (or marry you, lol)

Anyway, I'm so glad that you like it! And Sally/Linus is definitely going to be one of the minor couples in this story, and even though they might not be physically present, I'll try to add some hints. :)

**Marisa Lee**: Thank you so so much for your reviews, they really do keep me going! And I'm super relieved you think I'm doing Lucy okay! I mean, she's one of my favorite characters, and I hate all the crap she gets sometimes, you know? :)

And I just thought I'd add again how happy _Somebody That I Used to Know_ made me. Just sayin'!

**Supersexyghotmew95**: Haha, yeah, it is a little scary, huh? But I think Violet can be so funny, and I thought I'd give her a second chance in this story. The potential she has to be more of a motherly figure to Lucy was too good to pass up! Thank you so much for reviewing! Love ya!

**Areana123**: Thank you! I'm glad you liked it!

**Lovingrace**: Thank you so much! Haha, Lucy and Schroeder should always end up together, or the world can just explode :P

**wolfsongsea**: Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed it :)

Thank you guys so so much! Even a few words make my day!

And as a side note: I'd really like you guys' feedback on who you want Charlie with. I have a few ideas myself, but I want to know what everyone thinks :)


	6. Chapter 5

Hey everyone! I'm sorry I haven't updated in forever (well, it feels that way to me).

This chapter actually took a WHILE for me to write -.- but here it is! :)

I just want to thank my lovely reviewers again,** supersexyghotmew95, Marisa Lee, aworldwellneverfind, when the stars go out, Rachel, Pianosandhearts,** and** Peanutter!** Honestly, this story- and I- would have gotten nowhere without you guys. so thanks!

Enjoy!

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><p>A cool female voice interrupted Schroeder's fitful sleep.<p>

The nice stewardess continued her usual spiel over the fuzzy intercom: "We will be landing at JFK International Airport in approximately fifteen minutes. It is a cool sixty degrees in New York City, partly sunny with a chance of rain…"

He groaned quietly, shifting in the cramped seat. He longed desperately to stretch, to stand up in the cabin aisle and feel his joints crack. Schroeder blinked his eyes, sleepily looking around the cabin as it slowly rustled to life.

The trip so far had been mostly peaceful, he mused. True to form, Lucy had almost gotten into a shouting match with the blond, gum-chewing flight attendant. "Look, lady," the attendant had droned in a bored voice, "Keeping your phone on is against regulations—"

"No, YOU look here!" Lucy had roared, drawing strange looks from some of the other passengers. "I don't take orders from some yellow-haired bimbo—" Yup, the hormones were definitely kicking in.

Or maybe it was because he saw she had noticed how the attendant had checked him out appreciatively when he first sat down?

Nah.

Definitely the hormones.

Speaking of which, he turned to look at the girl in the window seat next to him. She was peacefully asleep, her chest moving up and down as she breathed slowly. In awe, he admired her features—is that really all he did these days? —a bit ruefully, hesitant to disturb her. She looked like an angel, the soft golden sunlight streaming in through the tiny window touching her like a halo. It would be a sin to waken her.

Unfortunately, Schroeder could see the ground coming closer, so he decided to buck up and take the bull by the horns, so to speak.

He shook her arm. "Lucy, we're almost the—"

The boy was painfully interrupted by a fist smashing into his face.

As he howled in anguish, he heard Lucy's voice through the burning haze. "Oh, Schroeder, I'm sorry!" she cried, wringing her hands. "It was a reflex, I swear!"

He summoned the strength to glare at her resentfully. "Bullshit," he moaned. "You've killed me. You've broken my jaw. Lucy, you'll have to hand feed me for the rest of my life—no, I'll have to eat through a straw—"

"Oh, hush. I can see you can talk just fine." She smirked at him, eyes twinkling. Gently, she brushed her fingertips along the side of his jaw, leaving behind a burning feeling deep in his skin. His eyes widened in shock as she leaned forward slowly, almost hesitantly, and she kissed his cheek. Right on the bruise.

Of course it didn't hurt, she did it so softly—but when she pulled away, Schroeder could feel a different pain, the ache he had become accustomed to. No, scratch that; it was familiar, but he never got _used_ to it. This pain was always fresh.

The longing to take her into his arms, to kiss the living daylights out of her, to be utterly happy and utterly _hers_—blossomed in his chest as he stared at her in quiet agony. Of course she didn't notice. Lucy had turned to look out the window, her mood already quickly shifting to that of excitement.

"Schroeder," she chirped, bubbly, "I am so excited! How long until we get to your apartment? Will we take a taxi? Is the airport big? Will we get lost? Like, really lost?" She seemed oddly fascinated with the idea.

He replied in mock annoyance, "How the heck should I know? I just want to sleep. Why are you so happy, anyway? You just punched me in the—"

She squealed. "We're landing!"

He groaned. These freaking mood swings were going to kill him.

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><p>The two teens stood in the crowd that bustled around them, humans on an alien planet.<p>

Lucy stared around her in awe. She had gone on small trips before, but they were almost always on the road. Never in an airport like _this_. And all these people! So many looks, intentions, _personalities_—all colliding and meeting in one place. Honestly, how could she ever go back to a boring small town after experiencing this?

Schroeder, on the other hand, was concentrating on the airport map on the distant wall. He contemplated the different color-coded hallways and symbols. "Where is the damn restroom?" he complained, hand tightening around his luggage. His bladder was literally about to explode!

"Schroeder, this place is so cool!" Lucy cried, catching onto the excitement around her. "When can we go see the city? I've always wanted to look at—"

"Let's concentrate on finding a way out of here," he interrupted wearily. She opened her mouth to object, but seemed to think better of it and shut it. She contented herself with staring interestedly at some Goths leaning against a pole further way. What her inner psychiatrist would give to speak to them!

Finally Schroeder located an exit on the brightly colored map. "Let's go, Lucy," he said, holding the luggage handle in one hand and taking her hand with the other. She didn't seem to notice, gazing about dazedly.

After weaving around crowds, poles and some rather rude people (he let Lucy unleash some of her more colorful language at them in response) they found themselves outside in the bustling streets of New York City. Unlike Lucy, Schroeder was not one to sightsee—especially with a stretched bladder—so he wasted no time in hailing a taxi. He pulled the girl behind him towards the vehicle, letting her in before loading their plentiful luggage wherever it could fit. He finally settled in next to Lucy in the cramped backseat.

"Um, 315 West 115th Street, please," Schroeder told the cab driver, glancing down at the address carefully copied on a slip of paper. As the cab took off, Schroeder's hand found Lucy. He intertwined their fingers, grinning at her teasingly as she whipped her head from the window. She smiled in response.

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><p>Lucy sat on the couch and frowned, kind of pissed off.<p>

They had reached the apartment hours ago, a tiny thing only fifteen minutes away from Broadway. As she tried to help Schroeder with the bags –him shrugging off her attempts firmly—Lucy gazed at the building in wonder. Cream-colored brick broken only by a dark fire escape, it rose above the cement below, rather than the large lawn she was accustomed to back home. Despite the fact it was cramped-looking, squeezed together, and not exactly _beautiful_—she felt a warm tug in her chest.

It felt like _home_.

They lugged the bags up the steep stairs one by one, sweating and nearly dropping a couple of them. The apartment was on the fourth floor, and Lucy longed for an elevator. If this was an effort now, how the hell was she supposed to make the trek nine months pregnant? She shivered at the idea. Better not to dwell on _that_.

Finally, as the last piece of luggage was dropped on the apartment's carpet, Schroeder rushed to the single bathroom with a shriek. "I CALL THE BATHROOM!" came his shout as he slammed the door closed. Lucy decided this would be a nice time to explore.

Of course, there wasn't much to see, but she reveled in trying to memorize every last feature of her new home. The kitchen was so little, but there were already some outdated appliances in place, and the countertops were pretty new. Next she headed to the living room. It was well-lit, with many narrow windows around two of the walls. It was tiny, but snug, and she fell in love with it already.

"Nice, isn't it?" came a voice from behind her, and she turned to see Schroeder smiling at her. He bit his lip. "I mean, do you like it? I know its small, but—"

"It's perfect," she breathed, grinning back. He brightened.

"Of course, it'll look better when Franklin brings the furniture," Schroeder mused.

Lucy remembered the sad day seven years ago, when the dark-skinned boy had moved away from their close-knit neighborhood to New York with his family. Thankfully, he and Schroeder had actually kept in touch over the years, and now upon hearing his old friends' situation Franklin had volunteered to lend them everything they needed. "It was really nice of him to do that," Lucy agreed, "Of course, this place won't be complete without a piano."

Schroeder froze, and cleared his throat nervously. "Um, yeah, of course, Lu."

As she shot him an inquisitive look, and her mouth opened with a question, the doorbell rang, and he thanked his lucky stars he wouldn't have to explain _that_ just yet. "That must be him now!" He exclaimed a bit too enthusiastically, walking towards the door to let him in.

"Franklin!" Lucy cried, rushing over to give him a hug as the tall boy stepped inside. After stumbling slightly at impact, he returned the embrace warmly.

"Wow, Luce, it's been forever! How have you been, sweetheart?"

"Just great," she beamed, "and look at you! You've _grown_!"

Franklin rolled his eyes, grinning. "People tend to do that, I've heard. And how is Lucy Junior?" he teased, earning a smack in the arm.

"Good to see you, Franklin," Schroeder smirked, clapping his old friend in the back. "Thanks so much for helping us out."

"No problem! I've got the stuff downstairs now."

Yes, the reunion had been happy enough, Lucy pouted, but the problem had happened a few minutes later. The three had been in the middle of lugging the couch she was presently sitting on—and she had to admit, it had been kind of heavy—up the stairs, when Lucy had let out a groan on exertion. Franklin had turned to her, his forehead creased.

"Lucy, should you be doing this? You know, the—the way… in your… condition…?" He fumbled for words awkwardly, still straining under the couch's weight. His previous joking mood was gone.

She had been about to brush off his suggestion with a wave of her hand. "It's nothing," she was about to bite out, when she happened to catch a glance at Schroeder's face. It had paled in shock, as he fully realized that pregnant ladies shouldn't be carrying giant pieces of furniture. He looked horrified.

So this was how she ended up alone in the living room, sulking as the boys finished the hard work. She crossed her arms in indignation. Who did Schroeder think he was, anyway? She was the mighty Lucy, champion arm wrestler of her hometown, stronger than most boys she knew! She could carry a stupid couch!

Speak of the devil. She could hear thumps coming up the stairs, getting louder.

As they heaved a bedframe through the front door, Lucy turned to glare at them coldly. Gulping, Franklin muttered something unintelligible, dropped his side of the frame and scooted back downstairs as fast as his legs could carry him. Schroeder, however, stayed, looking guilty.

Her eyes narrowed. He shuffled his feet.

But slowly, she slumped, her freezing gaze softening. She sighed, crossing her arms dejectedly. Schroeder's expression instantly turned to worry, as he gently made his way next to her. He sat uncomfortably.

Lucy sighed again. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I guess, I just feel so—so… frustrated, you know? Like I'm losing so much… and now I can't even help you guys _move in_."

She glanced up at him, prepared to see sympathy or pity in her best friend's eyes. But hers widened in shock. Instead, he was smiling at her, that familiar, comforting one that she would catch so frequently. The one that reminded her of long summer afternoons lying on the grass, of candy at Christmastime. Of timeless hours listening to piano music.

The smile that reminded her that she hadn't lost _everything_.

Her eyes were suddenly fierce. "But I'm not going to let that stop me," she murmured, gaining strength. "I've still got Linus, and Rerun, and Violet… I'm going to college, and living here—with you." She paused, he smile stretching. "I mean, we do make a great team, huh?"

Schroeder's grin spread wider. "Of course," he reassured her. "I told you I'd always be with you, Lu."

"Always? Even when I start getting annoying enough for two?" She was teasing now.

"Weeellll… maybe…"

She punched his arm. He laughed.

"That's my girl."

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><p>Reviews are love :)<p> 


	7. Chapter 6

Hi everyone! It's been a while—for me, anyway—and I'm not sure I'm feeling this chapter. I had a lot to fit into one chapter, and I'm afraid some parts are a little rushed. I've gone over and over it, so hopefully its okay… and this one will definitely give some insight into Lucy's feelings :)

And thanks so much to my amazing reviewers, because they keep this story alive :)

**Marisa Lee, Screak, SmileXDanceLove, Fiddlegirl, aworldwellneverfind**, and **sepersexyghotmew95**, I really am so thankful to you guys :) And to all my readers, thank you, and I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Peanuts :(

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><p>The weeks following were, admittedly, some of the most amazing in Lucy's life so far.<p>

After mornings of arranging and rearranging furniture under her critical eye, the _apartment_ had finally begun to change into _home_—sweet and cozy, with the mismatched secondhand furnishings somehow fitting together harmoniously. The couch was worn but soft, permanently smelling of Febreze and a faraway hint of tobacco. The fridge that was older than Lucy herself purred closer in volume to that of a lion than a cat, but the two found it almost comforting. And the TV was in good shape, a plus Schroeder hadn't seen coming.

What Lucy couldn't get over was the piano.

It only seemed natural to her that they would have one; it was a given. She knew Schroeder would definitely prefer one to even a microwave. So the morning after their arrival, they stood in the little kitchen with some old bowls and spoons, and over their Cheerios, Lucy asked offhandedly when the instrument would arrive.

Schroeder choked on his cereal. After coughing and wheezing—and a rather violent beating on his back on Lucy's part—he replied quietly, "It should be coming today."

Satisfied, Lucy enjoyed the rest of her cereal. All was right with the world; it had been a long while since she had felt hateful jealousy towards Schroeder's piano. Of course, nothing could have prepared her for the horrifying sight that awaited her a few hours later.

The piano was _horrible_.

Compared to the beautiful, shining black instrument Schroeder lovingly cared for back home, this one was shaped like a box—"A studio piano," he reminded her—and was a funny shade of brown. The paint was chipped, the legs scratched, and she was sure that a couple of the keys weren't supposed to be sunken in like that. Her mouth open, she turned to Schroeder in dismay.

He was staring at it too. "It was the best I could afford," he whispered, his eyes never leaving the sorry piano. She could hear the pain in his voice, and she was flooded with guilt. If she hadn't been here, could he have been able to get a better one? "Hey," she said quietly, laying a hand on his arm. "It's not so bad, really."

He finally turned to look at her skeptically, but she pressed on. "No, I mean it," she insisted, "I mean, it's still in one piece, right? In fact, it's probably an antique. No, even better! I wouldn't be surprised if this used to belong to Beethoven himself!"

He acquiesced. "I suppose." A grin tugged at the corner of his lips, blue eyes brightening.

So the piano was granted a corner, adorned with a vase of flowers and a miniature bust of Beethoven's head. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the piano did seem to brighten up considerably with its adornments and a little love.

With its flaws, it took a lot of talent to create the music he did on that piano, but unsurprisingly talent was something Schroeder was full of. Somehow the pieces he had played at home seemed richer than ever to Lucy. Every afternoon, as the blond boy settled down to practice, Lucy would perch nearby on the couch with a cup of hot cocoa, usually exhausted from the day's cleaning and organizing and occasional throwing up.

But as the music swelled and breathed, and Lucy was lulled to a content hiatus from the stress, she was suddenly a little girl again, and the young man before her was a tiny boy. As the music reached its peak, the twist in her heart would become all too familiar: the urge to cry and sing and laugh… to _love_. Big feelings too overwhelming for her tiny child heart to comprehend; for how could a mere child realize what it was to fall in love? Her head would spin, and her chest would ache- but as Schroeder sweetly finished, and grew slowly back into the tall man she knew, the _feelings_ would find their way back under lock and key and she could breathe. She both loved and hated these moments; she hadn't felt this way in ages, and it confused her. Hadn't she promised herself she wouldn't love him that way anymore?

Thinking critically, she knew that she obviously wasn't over him. She had tried time and time again to love him as only a best friend—had tried to date others, almost succeeded—and until recently, had deluded herself into thinking she had won. But now, after the baby, living with him constantly, having been surprised and touched by his care, heartaches that she had tried to stifle hit her with full force. No, Lucy decided, now they were even worse; for how could Schroeder _ever_ want her now? She was alone, a soon-to-be a single mother, while he was finally on the brink of success. He deserved better.

She brooded over her hot cup, pressing her palms against the steamy ceramic as if to clear her head. She closed her eyes, trying to hold back tears. Stupid feelings. Stupid hormones. Stupid Lucy. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.

But Lucy wasn't the kind to dwell on pain. The day would go on. Evenings were always her favorite, for many reasons. She had always been a night person—the idea that she was a morning person was simply laughable—and she was filled with good humor. She loved watching the city light up as the sky darkened, as if to say that sleep in New York was inconceivable, that really life began only after dark.

For another reason, evenings were also always the times for fun. Now as close as family, Franklin usually came around at seven, carrying some kind of takeout and a movie (never a romantic comedy, for some reason). The three could finally act like the teens they still were, fooling around and enjoying themselves. The night would grow deeper, and the teens would settle on the couch, usually with enough personal space. But as the movie wore on, they would end up sprawling all over each other, oftentimes falling asleep (curiously, Lucy's head always found Schroeder's shoulder). One interesting morning, Schroeder had awoken to find that Franklin had forgotten to go home.

Other times, the three would go sightseeing, with Franklin as their tour guide. The more Lucy saw and heard, the more she fell in love with this sprawling city that seemed to glow with vitality. How could she have lived so long without it?

Schroeder was almost indifferent to the sights. When she gushed about it to him one night after Franklin had left, he only shrugged.

"I guess it's nice," he replied, tightening his arm around her shoulders, as they sat on the couch watching TV. _But not as nice as you_, he thought slyly, glancing down at her pinked cheeks. He wasn't going to hide from her anymore.

On the other hand, Lucy was a secret tumult of emotions, ranging from ecstasy to pain to self-loathing. She wanted to punch someone. Very badly.

Somehow, these weeks before school started were the best she had ever lived, but how was she ever going to live with her best friend if he kept torturing her like this?

Schroeder, her one closest friend, whom she trusted with her life, smart, funny, talented, the only guy she could ever call beautiful in every way—was going to be the death of her. How the hell was she ever going to stop loving him?

Getting over him was going to be a lot harder than she hoped.

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><p>Please please review!<p> 


	8. Chapter 7

I'm so so sorry! Really I only have excuses to give... dumb ones, really.

I wanted to get this out by Halloween, but I guess that didn't really happen. This chapter is feeling kinda sucky to me, and I feel really gross about it. But oh well. Maybe I need a beta? :) Anyone want to help me out with that?

Thank you to my amazing reviewers, and to my readers! Love you guys, and I hope you enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Peanuts.

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><p>Lucy was filled with pure, mindless fear.<p>

She was racing down a dark, familiar corridor: dark steely doors whizzing past her on both sides, broken only by sections of lockers painted her high school's colors of white and green. Her flats slapped urgently against tiles of similar hues.

She allowed panic to pull her forward even faster, her load of books slipping dangerously through fingers slick with sweat. Her first day of classes, and somehow she had managed to be _late_.

In her panic, she didn't notice how she already knew her way around these corridors she had never been before, or rather, she knew where she was going; or how the walls seemed to bend and creak around her, twisting maze like and tripping her steps. Her mind was a blur—what was her first class again? _The History of Toes?_ No—as she desperately crashed through a seemingly random door.

Her heart froze in her chest.

Hundreds of students sat obediently at innumerable rows of desks, unseen faces deep in textbooks. At the commotion her entrance caused, however, they all turned to her as one—and all had _his_ face. Perfect brown hair. Malicious eyes… a smirk.

_Oh no_. In horror, she turned to the professor, who also had Rick's handsome appearance, this time twisted into amused contempt.

"Nice of you to join us, Miss Van Pelt," he drawled, tapping the attendance book in his arms with a perfect finger. "Late on your first day… what a shame…" his lips turned into a sneer. "It seems you're already _FAILING_!"

As the gigantic classroom was filled with the same cruel laugh coming from many mouths, Lucy could only stare in terror. Her knees knocking, head swimming, she cried wildly, "No, I—I'm sorry! I'll try harder! Please—" But her books had turned to snakes—no, _blankets?_ —And were wrapping around her. She was trapped.

"_Please!_" she screamed before the baby blue blanket covered her mouth. The Professor only snorted mockingly. "You'll try, will you? It's too late for that, Lucy Van Pelt! _How dare you!_" With horror, with chilling dread, Lucy heard the cutting words morph into her mother's. "_I will not have a whore in this house!_"

With a final muffled scream, Lucy was thrown… into bed. Her wild eyes opened.

It had all been a _dream_.

And with a muffled cry, she rushed out the bedroom door.

Schroeder, however, had been having a rather nice dream. Although now he couldn't recall it, he was sure the vision had been entwined with soft melodies and vivid colors. "Schroeder," a girl's voice sighed, as he drifted contentedly in dreamland, he suddenly felt himself being grabbed frantically by the arm.

"Schroeder!" the voice cried, growing urgent. He knew that voice… whose was it again? He struggled to concentrate on the cries, as they grew more frantic. Unfortunately, the scenery began to fade as he mind was jolted back into consciousness.

"Ugghhh…" he groaned, realizing it was still dark inside his little bedroom. What the fuck?

But his eyes blearily focused on the slight figure crouching next to him, and then on the anxious face only inches from his own. He jumped, shrieking.

She winced.

After he struggled to come to his senses (or most of them, anyway) and he noticed that Lucy looked terrible. He felt a pang of worry. "Lu? What's wrong?"

She bit her lip nervously. "Schroeder, I'm—I'm sorry. I just had a really terrible dream, and I—I mean, I was wondering… um, could I…?" Her typical pride had her embarrassed, if she hadn't seemed so afraid.

He understood. "Sure," he yawned, moving over. She shot him a grateful look, taking a calming breath. She snuggled under the blankets.

"I'm so going to feel humiliated about this in the morning," she mumbled contentedly, and he laughed quietly. Secretly, his libido was going fucking _haywire_, and sleep was probably the furthest thing from his mind. _Just friends just friends just friends_, he chanted firmly in his head. Well, at least for_ now_.

He peeked over at her sleeping form. It got worse.

Schroeder moaned.

This was going to be a _long_ night.

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><p>Schroeder was shocked to find this… <em>arrangement<em> would be more permanent than he thought.

Somehow, this incident repeated itself the following night, and then the next, and the next, until Schroeder decided to propose a more stable sleeping arrangement for both of their sakes. Lucy never moved around much in her sleep, and Schroeder was careful to keep his distance, so sharing a bed wasn't _uncomfortable_, really. It was strictly platonic, and although she never discussed the nightmares, he somehow kept them away. And after a while, Schroeder felt better having her close. Soon Lucy's bed was going completely unused.

And _finally_, one August twenty-ninth in New York City, two teens woke up to their first day of college.

Per usual, the boy woke up earlier, blue eyes dull and cloudy with sleep. Yawning, brushing golden locks out of his vision, he ambled towards the shower; he tried to grab at his towel but his arm missed several times.

He scowled enviously behind him at the girl still deeply asleep on the bed. Stupid Julliard with its stupid early orientation, damn it all.

After showering and dressing with whatever was tossed on top of his chair and didn't smell strange, Schroeder contemplated waking Lucy. If he did, she would probably punch him again, or worse; Lucy was not famous for a bright morning attitude. If he didn't, she would probably punch him later for letting her sleep in on her first day. He sighed. It was a death sentence either way.

He compromised by waking her with a carefully thrown pillow, aimed directly for her head.

(She still punched him later anyway, for such a rude awakening.)

An hour later, the two found themselves rushing to get ready. Lucy had sent Schroeder back to change his clothes no less than _three times._ "You look a mess," she complained, attempting to smooth out his hair as he struggled fruitlessly to evade her grasp.

"I'm _fine_," he groaned, pushing away her hands halfheartedly. "I'm going to _school_, not a _wedding_. Can I eat my breakfast now, Mother?"

"Don't sass me," she warned. "Haven't I told you before that stripes and plaid don't mix?"

"Yeah, but I didn't _notice_—"

She glared. He gulped.

The rest of the hour passed without further complaint; it seemed the nerves were getting to Lucy as well. She was silent as they clambered down the stairs to leave.

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><p>That night, Franklin bought pizza.<p>

"A toast," he rang out, grinning, his slice of pepperoni extended. "To the first day of the college!"

"To the first day of the rest of our lives," Schroeder agreed, "clinking" his pizza slice against the other boy's in mock grandeur.

"Amen," Lucy finished solemnly, taking a bite out of hers. She was too hungry to wait.

After a few minutes of silence as they ate, Franklin broke the silence. "So how was the first day for you guys, really?" Franklin had technically started college a few days ago.

Lucy beamed. "It was magnificent," she sighed. "The campus is so beautiful, and when I saw the library I almost fainted, it was so _large_! The professors are so knowledgeable, like you can just _feel_ the wisdom in the air, you know? And I'm just prepared to _absorb_ it."

Franklin snorted, then burst out in laughter. Lucy smacked him in the face with a throw pillow, grinning. "Shut up, asshole."

After trying to control himself unsuccessfully, Franklin turned to Schroeder, grinning. "How about you, Beethoven? How was _Julliard_?"

The blond boy shrugged, swallowing a bit of pizza. "It was okay," he allowed. "We didn't do much."

This was a lie. He chose to overlook the incident during his Performance I class, when he was chosen "randomly" to perform in the classroom's piano anything of his choice in front of the other students. He decided to omit the fact that after fifteen minutes of one of his favorite Beethoven pieces, he left the class—including the professor—speechless. It was all rather an uninteresting story, in his opinion. He had even messed up a note somewhere in the middle.

Finishing her pizza, Lucy sighed in contentment. "I'm sleepy," she yawned exaggeratedly, stretching her arms above her head, accidentally socking Franklin in the mouth.

"Move _over_," Franklin grouched from Lucy's other side, causing her to scoot closer to Schroeder, who was already feeling his eyes droop. As Lucy rested her head on his shoulder with another sigh, he tried to ignore the swooping feeling in his belly. The feeling that nowadays was becoming all too common and unfortunately very familiar.

As Lucy fell into a deep sleep and Franklin was quieted as the TV captured his attention, Schroeder decided to indulge, just once, in the pretend that Lucy was really his. He imagined that the hand curled on his leg had rested there in flirtation rather than in sleep; that the soft cheek at his collarbone was free to be kissed. Longingly, as his head rested on hers, Schroeder tried to believe that for a minute, Lucy was his not as a best friend, but as a lover; the thought was enough to make a curious shiver run down his spine.

And not for the first or last time, he cursed the stupid, blinded kid he had been.

* * *

><p><em>A couple months later<em>

Five-thirty P.M.

Schroeder glared at the large bowl of chocolates resentfully.

It was a clear, crisp night, perfect for Halloween. The tree outside their window, already marvelously decked in the warm blushes of dying leaves, looked almost sinister framed with the full moon, adding to the evening's spooky aura. Indoors, Lucy had outdone herself; tablecloths, figurines, and even napkins all shared in the holiday's theme, adorned with pumpkin oranges and dark purples. In fact, Lucy had almost done too good a job; it was at Schroeder's intervention that a giant fake spider web (complete with a furry spider the size of a small dog) had been taken down from their bedroom ceiling.

Of course, it was due to her enthusiasm that she had bought too many bags of chocolate. "For the kids," she had replied brightly to his horrified look. "I don't want to run out, so I bought a couple bags extra."

To further his misery, she had refused to let him sample even one measly bit of candy.

His costume choice hadn't helped the situation any. True to tradition, he was dressed as a famous composer, this year opting for George Handel. Although he should have been proud of the authenticity, his only thought was how itchy the damn grey wig was; it was making him _miserable_.

"Let me see your costume!" A cry from the hallway rang out, as Lucy whirled into the living room. Dressed in a witch's garb, she even had a fake wart on her nose and had even painted herself green. At his approving glance, she grinned a toothy smile.

"What are you supposed to be, anyway?" She wrinkled her nose. "George Washington?"

He shot her a mock glare. "Lucy, you should go put your costume on. Or are you dressed as yourself?"

She nodded approvingly. "Touché."

Suddenly, she noticed the bowl of candy within Schroeder's reach. "You didn't take any, did you?" She cried accusingly, pointing a damning green finger at his nose.

"No, no! I didn't!" Schroeder whined defensively, backing into his seat slightly. Lucy continued to eye him with suspicion, although seemed to accept his apparent sincerity. She whisked the bowl closer to the dinner table, dropping something heavy in it as she set it down.

"Lucy," he asked slowly in confusion, "Is that…?"

"A rock!" the girl cried out triumphantly, flashing a grin at him. "See, for old times sake, we'll pick out the kid who looks or acts the most like Charlie Brown, and instead of candy he'll get a nasty surprise!" She cackled. "He'll never see it coming!"

Lucy was getting _way_ too into the whole witch thing. She was actually rubbing her hands together in glee.

"But Lucy," Schroeder tried to reason, "That's not very nice. What if the kid's parents—"

His vain attempt at sense was interrupted with the chime of the doorbell. Lucy crowed with delight.

"Children!" she crooned excitedly in her best imitation of an old hag, which would have impressed Schroeder if not for the frightening accuracy. Hobbling along and hunched over, she threw open the door.

"Ugh!" Straightening up, Lucy gave a long, dejected sigh. "Schroeder, false alarm. It's only Franklin." She moved towards the couch, followed by an offended-looking Franklin dressed as a bloody surgeon.

"Well, hello to you too," he huffed, setting some bulging plastic bags by the floor before plopping down on the couch. "Nice to know people are so excited to see me."

"Well, you do practically live here anyway," Schroeder commented thoughtfully from his seat, tapping his chin.

"You should split the rent like the rest of us," Lucy grumbled, eyes zoning in on the bags. "What's in those?"

He grinned, pouring out the contents on the carpet, its wealth spilling out in all directions. "My rent, you could call it."

More fucking candy.

As Schroeder groaned loudly, trying to smother himself in a pillow at the injustice, Lucy cackled again with more gusto.

Seven P.M.

Schroeder was so _bored_.

No children at all had rung their doorbell for trick-or-treats, and he was getting restless. He desperately wished he could take a nap, but this God forsaken wig prevented his from even leaning his head on the couch pillow. Franklin was slumped next to him, eyes glued to the football game on TV.

Lucy's angry voice rang from the kitchen. "No, _you_ listen, Linus! You had better get Rerun out of that ridiculous pumpkin patch right now or so help me… I don't care if YOU go and get yourself pneumonia, but when you get _him_ involved then I have to draw the line!"

Schroeder snickered. Linus would never change.

Lucy was fuming, listening to the phone as Linus probably made some sort of attempt at a dignified retort. Finally she growled, "What does it matter that Sally's finally joining you this year? You two could sit out there for _days_ together for all I care. _But Rerun is not missing trick-or-treat for that stupid pumpkin patch_."

Silence. Then a gasp. "You take that back, you little—"

Schroeder snickered again, reaching for the bowl of candy. Dinner and a show.

"Don't you dare, Schroeder!" A yell stopped his hand in its tracks to the delicious chocolaty goodness.

Fuck! How did she know? She was still in the kitchen, for God's sake. He slumped again. Worst. Holiday. Ever.

Eight-thirty.

To say Lucy was getting antsy was the understatement of the year.

Her petite form was huddled on the armchair, her frequent glances at the door possibly resembling a nervous twitch. She looked so terribly disappointed, and Schroeder couldn't help but feel pain at seeing her so sad. He cursed all the little brats in the world for her sake; why couldn't they have come to this apartment? Just once? Lucy would have been so happy.

Franklin was already snoring away, limbs sprawled, his mouth open and his feet up on the coffee table. A loud snore was cut short by the sound of the doorbell ringing.

"Trick-or-treat!"

With a shriek Lucy sprang up, straightening her grey curls and touching her wart. "I've got it!" She cried, rushing towards the door. Pausing with her hand on the doorknob, she whirled around abruptly shrieked, "_Franklin_!"

"I'm up!" He shouted, springing into a sitting position and almost slapping Schroeder across the face with an careless hand.

Lucy threw open the door. Standing there was a little boy, probably ten, dressed as an astronaut. Schroeder had to admit he looked pretty amazing, authentic-looking helmet and all. "Trick-or-treat," the boy repeated almost impatiently, thrusting out an overlarge pillowcase.

Lucy cackled for the millionth time, now practiced to perfection. The kid looked properly alarmed.

"Coming right up, little man," she said in a raspy voice, hobbling over slowly to the bowl on their tiny dinner table of sorts. Was that a fake limp? Schroeder felt admiration—not for the first time—at her amazing acting skills.

As he peered over, he accidentally caught the boy's eye. The kid appraised him for a minute, eyes squinting and brow furrowing. Finally, he pointed at Schroeder's nose. "What are you supposed to be?" he demanded.

Schroeder's eyes widened. "I," he said with dignity, "am George Frederick Handel, a composer during the Baroque era. Born in 1685, I composed more than—"

"You look like a old lady."

Franklin guffawed as the normally blond boy stiffened. Lucy had paused at the bowl of candy, eyes wide and her hand over her mouth in shock.

The stupid kid was looking at Schroeder insolently, as if aware that he had touched a nerve and found it funny. This served to further infuriate him and his mouth opened to give this kid what was coming to him.

But as he glanced again at Lucy, he saw her eyes had brightened suddenly with a mischievous spark. Curious, he stayed silent as she hobbled forwards with the bowl. "Now, now, boys," she crooned, sticking her hand in the candy to grab a handful. "Let's just let the little cretin take his candy without any trouble. It _is_ Halloween, after all."

Lucy's gift fell rather loudly into the large pillowcase, and without further ado the boy rushed away without so much as a "thank you".

"What a brat," Franklin commented, as Lucy shut the door. "Rotten luck, sweetheart. I'm sorry."

But when she turned towards them, she was laughing so hard there were tears leaving clean tracks down her green painted face.

With only one look at the candy bowl, Schroeder caught on, grin growing wide. "You gave him the rock, didn't you?"

She could only nod, out of breath and trying to control her laughs. Franklin only gaped. "You… gave a kid a _rock?_"

"He was obnoxious!" Lucy said defensively, grinning wide and shooting Schroeder a look. "He deserved it much more than Charlie Brown ever did."

Schroeder was laughing too, amazed at her audacity and even sort of touched. Then again, this was _Lucy;_ why would he expect any different?

"The kid's mom is going to kill us." _I love you_.

Her dark eyes, too, were full of meaning. "I know."

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><p>I hope everyone had an amazing Halloween!<p>

Please review!


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